I want to reach out to you.
Across the ages
Across the fourth wall
Instead of it being the other way round.
That'd be predictable, wouldn't it?
A firm grasp and then dragging you with me.
Who knows - up or down?
I understand.
Let me put it this way.
I alone understand.
Not the Beadles
Not the Meagles
Not even she, Miss Wade.
Not like the way I do.
Good must not mean righteous
Well-meaning gone wrong is deeply hurtful.
You have nothing to regret.
Not all those afternoon delights shared with her.
Not the suppressed lesbianism in Mr. Dickens' world.
Not your rage or your spitefulness.
Not the damnation.
Nothing.
I wonder how you spent the rest of your life.
Did you really curb your anger?
Did you really succumb?
Did you just pretend all this while?
Are you waiting for me to reach out to you?